Operation Sierra: GDI Marine
by VegasSpartan
Summary: The first in a series of short stories detailing the same operation from different points of view. This story is from the view of a GDI Marine, Corporal James Smith. Stories take place during a third Tiberium war. Rated for violence and language.
1. The Landing

"**And when he gets to heaven,**

**to Saint Peter he will tell,**

**'one more soldier reporting sir,**

**I've served my time in Hell.' "**

Corporal James Smith was so nervous that he nearly jumped when the deck commander ordered him onto the hovercraft. The invasion force was massive: Two Marine Divisions, a Wolverine Division, and five Titans.

"Move it, Corporal!"

"Yes, Sir!" Smith boarded the hovercraft. It left the bay, bound for shore. He watched as a squadron of Orca Interceptors took off from the aircraft carrier. The Orca Interceptor was a more heavily-armed and armored version of the old Fighter. They formed up over the fleet of hovercraft. Dropships followed with more troops and the vehicles. Smith noticed a flash from shore. He looked up just in time to see an Orca explode and fall into the water. The Orcas and Dropships scattered and came low to the water. Smith then scanned the sky but saw no parachute.

"Thirty seconds!" Smith stood up, which was hard to do in the hovercraft.

"Ten seconds!" Smith's grip tightened on his M-16 Mk. III laser rifle. He clenched his jaw.

"CLEAR THE RAMP!" The ramp dropped and the platoon ran ashore. Lasers flew at them. Smith dove behind a rock just in time. A laser hit where he was standing just a second before. He looked up and saw Dropships and Orcas exploding from SAM missiles. A single Dropship was able to drop its cargo: three wolverines. They were shortly destroyed by laser emplacements. Smith looked to his right and saw a medic running for a wounded Marine. A sniper's bullet went through his faceplate and out the back of his helmet. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he hit. Droppods flew in from above. They hit hard. Many of them were destroyed upon impact. One landed near him. The pod opened and a Marine jumped out and dove behind the rock with him. He read the Marine's nametag: CPL. JONES. He saw the unmistakable insignia of the legendary 105th Drop Pod Regiment. The most important thing that Smith noticed was that Jones had a radio.

"Does that thing work?"

"Hell yeah!" Jones handed him the microphone.

"Hello? We need air support! Can anyone hear me?" There was a torturing silence, finally followed by a reply.

"Roger, this is the carrier Eagle. What is your situation?"

"We're pinned down by laser emplacements. I need an air strike!"

"Roger. What is your position?" Smith gave the position, and then told the operator about the SAM sites.

"Affirmative. We have three bombers inbound."

"Got it. Thanks." He gave Jones the microphone. "Air strike inbound." Jones nodded and continued shooting. Smith started shooting around the rock. As he reloaded he noticed three dots on the horizon. They grew larger and took the form of Orca Bombers. The bombers dropped low. There was a deafening roar as they flew over the beach. They pulled up sharply as they released their bombs. They had left before the SAM sites could get a lock. The Marines let out a cheer and charged up the beach, firing. Some Nod soldiers shot back, but most of them ran. They were all killed just the same. Smith walked inside a bunker. He saw a Nod soldier. The soldier grabbed a rifle off the floor. Before Smith could shoulder his weapon the soldier had pulled the trigger. Smith closed his eyes and thought _this is it_, when he heard the subtle click of a jammed rifle. The soldier dropped the rifle in shock and horror. He turned to run, but was stopped by Smith's shots. He screamed and fell to the ground. Smith left the bunker and walked to the shore. A Carryall had dropped an MCV. It had deployed and started construction on a base. Smith walked to the reddened shoreline. He looked around at the hundreds of bodies on the beach. He shook off the thought and stared out at the setting sun…


	2. Holding the Line

"**Only the dead have seen the end of war"**

**-Plato**

War is hell. That's what Corporal James Smith had discovered to be quite true during the past few weeks. Nod forces had attacked several times lately, attempting to re-take the beach and push GDI back into the water. Smith was just finishing breakfast when they attacked again. Klaxons blared as orders were shouted.

"Nod forces attacking! All personnel to your posts!" He threw his tray down, jumped up, and sprinted to his barracks to get his gear. GDI personnel ran every which way, some with weapons, some without. Smith dove to the ground as one of the upgraded Banshees flew overhead, strafing the soldiers below. Men and women were vaporized by the super-heated plasma shots.

After what seemed like an eternity (but was really only about 45 seconds) Smith made it to his barracks. He grabbed his rifle and some clips then ran for his post. The Banshee had been shot down by a SAM site, but was replaced with three more. Two Orca Interceptors flew overhead and engaged the 'Shees. The 'Shees turned and dove, did rolls and snap turns that would've easily shaken a fighter, but not the interceptor. The lead Orca fired its minigun and the bullets found their mark. Sparks flew along the hull of one of the Banshees, which soon exploded as the bullets found something critical. The fireball of molten metal slammed into the cliff nearby. The lead Orca was soon attacked by the surviving 'Shees. His wingman was successful in downing them both, but not until after one had gotten a shot off. The superheated plasma found its mark; the lead Orca's left engine exploded. Smith dove to the ground as it flew over his head and hit the ground, sliding to a stop some fifty yards away. Smith ran as fast as he could over to the wreckage to help the pilot.

There was no need to open the cockpit; the canopy had shattered. He grabbed the pilot and managed to undo the harness. He laid the pilot down on the ground and shouted for a medic. A medic soon arrived and started his work.

After a short run Smith arrived at his post. It was a standard bunker integrated into the base wall. He ran inside and was greeted by smoke. He shouted for the other person assigned to that bunker, Private Harper. Harper was unable to respond, as half of him was gone from the grenade that had found its way inside. Smith ran over to him, even though he knew that the man was very, very dead. He collected Harper's weapon, ammo, and dog tag, and then proceeded to the firing position. Smith was pissed, _thoroughly_ pissed. Harper had been a good friend of his. He opened fire; didn't even aim, just hosed down the area in front of the bunker with pulse-rifle fire. He got lucky: the rounds found a target. A stealth trooper had been trying to sneak past the base's defenses and slip inside. He "flickered" as his suit was punctured with 7.62mm Armor-Piercing rounds. His scream was horrifically distorted by his mask as he fell to the ground.

Smith reloaded, and then squinted at the horizon to see several specks approaching. He switched to Harper's weapon: a standard-issue sniper rifle. He gazed down the scope and acquired the dots. He pressed a button on the weapon and various data appeared on the scope display. The advanced sight detected wind speed and direction. Smith adjusted his aim, held his breath, and then pulled the trigger. There was a satisfying _crack _as the round was ejected from the gun and flew downrange. Smith was rewarded with a red cloud and the figure dropping. He slowly scanned the horizon and found a pair of soldiers. One wore an officer's uniform, and the other wore a Black Hand Commander's uniform.

_Which one should I take?_ Smith thought. _Which one is more important? _He trained the scope back and forth from figure to figure. In this moment he could easily end either's life. But he wouldn't be able to get a second shot off in time. He decided. Another _crack_ as the round flew. Another red cloud, and the Black Hand Commander fell. Smith lucked out: the officer was too startled and too shocked to move. That cost him dearly. Yet another _crack_ echoed through the bunker. The officer fell.

While he was looking down the scope searching for another target he failed to see the figure crawl up to the bunker, pull a fragmentation grenade from his belt, and remove the pin.

The grenade rolled into the bunker, landing with a loud _tink_ on the concrete below. Smith didn't even have to look down to realize what had made the sound. He dropped the rifle and sprinted towards the bunker's door. _Almost there_, he thought. Just as he got to the doorway, a deafening _BANG_ and a shudder erupted through the bunker. Smith felt a sharp pain in his back. He fell to the floor and blacked out when he hit...


End file.
